You Could Be Happy (With Me)
by OpheliacAngel
Summary: He had built up so much and now, standing on the other side of the door, none of it mattered anymore. Written for Fandom Stocking for BrighteyedJill's Stocking.


**Title:** You Could Be Happy (With Me)

 **Author:** OpheliacAngel

 **Pairing:** Nathan/Peter

 **Genres:** Romance/Angst

 **Rating:** Teen

 **Summary:** He had built up so much and now, standing on the other side of the door, none of it mattered anymore.

 **A/N:** Written for Fandom Stocking for BrighteyedJill's Stocking. Inspired by this vid: (youtube dot com slash) watch?v=xa7R96gMovY.

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They used to be there for each other. Used to tell each other everything, always vowed to catch the other if they fell, support each other because they were all they had. It wasn't just family that made their bond. Nathan believed in family but he believed in families of choice too. Peter had never been an obligation even if Nathan had labeled him as one. He and Peter had that connection that Nathan could never have with Heidi, that's what had always scared him. Loyalty like that. Trust like that. A bond like _that._

But doing what Peter demanded of him… he couldn't just go off and ruin his reputation, couldn't just put his hold on life for Pete and hope everything would be okay in the end. His brother was fine just like he was, still searching, still putting everyone before him, but Nathan couldn't live like that. It was suffocating. Peter trying to understand. Peter trying to get him to admit to it. The whole powers thing.

But it wasn't all about that.

Except that Nathan would catch Peter if he fell, that he always vowed. And he did. Peter had pushed him to it, had given him no choice, but it didn't mean Nathan would cave. It didn't mean it would change him, make him quit all of this, just make him walk out of his own life like he had been missing something all these years.

He had… been missing something. The way Peter's clothes smelled before they went into the laundry. That childish smile of his wearing down at Nathan's every wall. The way Peter absentmindedly bit his lip as his long hair irritatingly fell in front of his face. Nathan would open his mouth, almost tell him to get it cut, but he would never say it. That was Pete, his brother. The one he would catch if he fell. The one who he would always be there for, just maybe a little too late.

Nathan would pick himself up every morning and make himself into what he was meant to be. He would leave Peter to his own dreams and feign interest. Maybe Peter could tell he was faking that too, maybe that was why he went after Nathan like he did, pushing and prodding at him for his weak spots.

 _You_ _'re the only weak spot I'll ever have_ , Nathan wanted to tell him. _You_ _'re the worst one I could have. Because you're winning. You get that, Pete?_ You're _winning._ _"_

He hung onto his own stupid dream of Peter finding happiness, like Nathan had. He just had to keep pushing away, keep giving him the chance.

This being dragged back to his brother's apartment every time he had doubts wouldn't do. His hand felt heavy now as he lifted it, tapping lightly on the door. He could feel Peter on the other side of the wood, could feel his brother breathing, living, _being._

Peter had to do this every goddamn time. Just _be._

"Peter, open the door."

He could hear the latch being undone and he almost slammed his hand on the door. It was his own fault. He had been the one to maintain the distance, the one who put walls up between them, trying to forcefully close off their connection. Peter could be happy without him, he just had to _wait._

Nathan could feel Peter turn away too, without opening the door, could feel everything he was turn away as if Nathan was too late.

He had been here before. The other day, the other week, who the hell knew. He had built up so much and now, standing on the other side of the door, none of it mattered anymore. He could smell the soap on Peter's skin, could feel himself running his fingers through Peter's overgrown hair. Peter would always be there, right on the other side of the door, unless he did something about it. Unless Nathan convinced the only person in the world who mattered: his own brother.

They didn't talk anymore. How the hell had that happened?

He stretched out his hand, palm laying flat on the wood. "Peter, wait. Please."

The door opened. Nathan walked inside as if every step didn't mean something monumental, as if each time he put his foot forward and shifted his weight it wasn't a feat, it wasn't the hardest and simplest decision of his life all at the same time. Peter closed the door behind him and watched him like something was wrong. Like some freak accident had happened and Nathan had come to him for support. Like everything in Nathan's life was larger than his brother and Peter was only there on the sidelines, in the background, just waiting and dreaming and begging Nathan to give him something all while Nathan pushed him away like his life didn't depend on _not_ closing that connection.

"What's wrong?" Peter ran a hand through his hair and pulled a sweater over his head. Some ratty thing that reminded Nathan of the time he told Peter to get new socks because they all had holes in them. He wanted to sob, at all the memories, at Peter always acting like something was wrong. That Nathan had caused Peter's surety of misfortune and tragedy. That Nathan had been the shittiest brother and Peter the best in the goddamn world. For waiting.

Every voice in Nathan's cluttered head filtered down to one. "Everything." He repeated it, unsure whether he had said it or not. "Everything."

He practically fell forward and pulled Peter into his arms then, where he could breathe him in and smell his soap and taste his strawberry-scented shampoo in his hair and the promises on his lips and Nathan could remember that Peter was _his_. That Peter was a part of _him._ The good part.

" _Nathan."_

Nathan's hands were bunched in Peter's sweater and those hands pulled him nearer, practically yanked him closer until Peter was right on top of him. One of Nathan's hands curled, tangling itself in Peter's hair. His mouth covered Peter's own again, devouring every ounce of happiness because words couldn't cover enough ground. "No more waiting." No more waiting for happiness, for those goddamn pipe dreams. Just no more waiting. "I'm here."

He finally was and god, what a relief it was after _all this time._

 **FIN**


End file.
